


Night of the Dead

by Marius2045



Category: Moonlight (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marius2045/pseuds/Marius2045
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halloween Fic. Vampires don't do costumes, but they do drink Absinthe. Mick/Josef, kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night of the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> With this story I won the 3. place in the 'Moonlight' - Halloween challenge a couple of years ago.

** Night of the Dead **

or

_Vampires don’t do Costumes_

_  
_

It was almost midnight, the night before Halloween. Mick sat on his couch, a good book at hand. Warmth from the fireplace spread through him as if it was a good hefty swig of fresh blood. Tonight, he’d relax and do nothing because tomorrow would be busy madness.

Tomorrow, people would put on costumes and ask for sweets, most of them not even knowing that Halloween had it origins in the Samhain, an ancient Celtic festival. It was to be believed that on Samhain the boundary between the alive and the deceased dissolved, and the dead became dangerous for the living.

Mick had to smile at the thought. He surely wouldn’t be a threat to anyone.

A knock at the door made him put down his book with a slightly annoyed look in his eyes. He wasn’t really in the mood for company tonight.

“Hello my friend.”

Josef smiled broadly when he pushed a heavy paper bag into Mick’s hands after the younger vampire had opened the door. Since he walked forward at the same time, Mick had no choice but to retreat into his apartment again, unconsciously taking hold of the bag.

“The answer is no.” Mick said firmly before Josef could say another word.

“But you will miss all the fun.” The answer came cheerfully with only the lightest hint of something else.

Mick eyed him suspiciously. “Fun for you or for me?”

Josef actually managed to look offended. He held up his now empty hands. Mick had no idea from which sleeve Josef had pulled the I-am-innocent face, but he didn’t believe a thing. After all it was Josef and Josef and Halloween meant nothing but trouble.

“Can I at least explain? Might find you like my idea.”

Mick crossed his arms in front of his chest, glaring warily at him. “I seriously doubt it.”

“Please, brother?” Josef looked pleadingly into Mick’s eyes, but a hint of mischief and the sinful gleam in his own eyes betrayed him.

Mick sighed. He knew Josef too well; he’d never give up so Mick did what he had to do and gave in.

“One minute.” He even held up a finger to emphasize how serious he was. Josef only smirked in return.

“Tomorrow’s Halloween and a day to celebrate the living. But tonight, brother tonight is the night of the dead, so how about we put on some costumes and have a party among us evil spirits? Let’s light some fires, slaughter some livestock and scare the living shit out of people who are stupid enough to go out tonight.”

Mick’s mouth fell open and he couldn’t help snorting in disbelieve. “You are fucking kidding me, right? Man, you can’t be serious.” The last sentence wasn’t even a question anymore.

“What are we, lunatics? And Vampires don’t do costumes!”

Josef grinned and the manic gleam in his dark eyes sent shivers down Mick’s spine. He stepped forward and grabbed Mick’s shoulders pulling him closer until their noses almost touched.

“No brother, we are Vampires, freaks of nature and it’s time we act like what we truly are and enjoy being the little devils we’ve become.”

Hot breath fanned over Mick’s suddenly burning skin. It was almost like a physical touch, leaving a tingling sensation on his cheeks.

“We can leave away the costumes if you want to. Pity though, I really wanted to see you in that lovely wig.” He cast a side-glance to the paper bag on the floor.

Mick tried to back off, his head spinning from what was thrown at him, but Josef held him firmly in place with hands stronger than Mick’s could ever hold on to something.

He squirmed under the hard grip, seeing something in Josef’s eyes he’d seen before, a long time ago.

Their breaths mingled and Mick could actually taste Josef, like a kiss but more distant. Still, there was something else between them; something surreal Mick couldn’t really take hold of, and something that was familiar at the same time.

“Come with me, Mick. Come and find something to eat, some young, fresh Hotness we can sink our fangs into. Let’s taste their fear, feed on the strong heartbeat until there is nothing left to fight for, only death.”

Josef’s breath ghosted over Mick’s face and lower. His lips touched the soft skin on his neck and again Mick tried to step back and found that he couldn’t.

“No Josef. Don’t.”

Mick felt the quiet laughter more than he heard it. It brushed hotly over his skin.

“You are not yet convinced, are you brother? Seems like I need to show you what I want from you tonight.”

Without further warning, Josef sank his fangs deeply into Mick’s throat, sucking blissfully on the stream of life that escaped him. He embraced him with all of his strength, holding him tight against his stronger and stronger beating heart with every gulp of blood. It didn’t take long for Mick’s resistance to die down and he sagged into the warmth of Josef body holding him upright.

“Enough please. Enough.” Weak hands tried to push at Josef’s shoulders earning Mick nothing but a chuckle.

“Haven’t you learned by now that you can’t escape me?”

Josef’s tongue lapped soothingly over the little punctured wounds while he lowered Mick to the ground carefully. His face was bright with the blood he just drank and his eyes still held the dark gleam of wickedness in them when he looked down at Mick.

“Come now, brother, drink from me and embrace the little devil that’s inside of every one of us.”

With one long nail Josef cut his own neck, digging deeply until he hit the artery and while he hissed with the pain it brought, his blood fell onto Mick’s face in heavy drops. With a little aim and the help of gravity it soon hit his open mouth, turning the soft panting sounds into something new, something greedy.

“Josef… no, no!” Mick almost choked on the first taste and turned his head to the side.

“Yes, I am here, Love, and I am not going anyhere. Now drink.” Josef grabbed Mick’s chin hard, forcing him to look back up.

“Drink!” Clearly an order.

The arms still holding Mick pulled him up a little bit until he could reach the crook of Josef’s neck; until Mick’s lips closed over the strong rush of blood.

It was Josef, yes, but there was something else, something Mick had sworn he’d never drink again.

Thujone.

His lips were still sealed safely to Josef’s neck, so he could only scream in his head: ‘He’s been drinking Absinthe! Bastard!’

He wanted to spit it out, get rid of the feeling it created in him, but the weakness Josef forced into him and the craving for blood were too strong and he drank, his head spinning faster and faster with the bitter-sweet taste of anis, wormwood, fennel and the evil part of Josef, most times hidden deep down inside of him.

“That’s it, drink. Let it fill you like it filled me. Become what I became.”

With that he stopped pulling Mick to his skin, but he didn’t let go. Instead, Josef lay down with his entire body covering Mick with it like a blanket. It seemed that his hands had a life of their own, constantly exploring Mick’s burning skin, scorching him even more everywhere they touched.

His fingers bathed in the blood, which had dripped from his throat onto Mick’s face, and he painted a pattern over the high cheekbones, his eyelids, giving his face a diabolic aspect.

The evil little grin returned to Josef’s face and turned even wider when it was mirrored in Mick’s features.

“There you are.”

Josef closed the last inch between them, placing an almost chaste kiss on Mick’s lips, but his next words betrayed the angelic gesture.

“A beast of man.”

He started to laugh out loud when Mick hands caught the back of his head strongly to pull him down for another kiss. One that would’ve made a virgin blush. It was a kiss the way a man should be kissed; like he wanted to swallow him whole or if long forlorn secrets of the earth lay hidden in the back of his throat.

Breathless, they finally broke apart. They looked at each other with eyes that held the same, almost ferocious gleam of something, clearly showing the effect of the liquor.

They grinned in unison, before Mick spoke out loud what both of them were thinking.

“Let’s go and hunt the living. After all we are the dead and this is our night.”

 


End file.
